in this world alone
there ain't never any place to call home
no single someone to call your own
man, it's the worst thing in the world to be all alone
a longing moan turns to a growing sigh
I keep asking questions, I'm wondering why
black is my night and grey is the sky
I keep asking questions, I'm wondering why
I've got no one to call my own
how can I be, man, how can I be, so all alone?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem